To Disappear Completely
by Chibi Pyralspite
Summary: Kurt is broken. He knows that he wants to disappear completely but Dave refuses to let him go.


a/n: I don't know...sucks right? I've had a lot of stuff on my mind...I don't like editing either. I'm also not a doctor.

**To Disappear Completely**

"Breathe." His voice was calm as he spoke, gripping at the shoulders against his chest. "Now, open your eyes." The boy in front was hesitant; shaking his head and keep them shut which was noticeable through he mirror.

"I can't." He breathed and tried to turn back around but the hands at his shoulders kept him forward.

"Yes you can. Do it Kurt, look at yourself." He watched the other in the mirror, opening one eye slowly and only covering his hands with them. The man moved his hands from his shoulders to his hands and pulled them from his face. There was shock in his eyes, struggling in the mans arms to be let go of. "Kurt-"

"Let go of me!" He cut the other off. "Dave, let me go." He struggled more, starting to sob as his body fell to it's knees, hands still gripped by the man. He couldn't do it, even the simplest look in the mirror drove him to tears.

Kurt felt Dave fall to his knees behind him, dropping his grip from his hands and wrapping them around. He was shaking as he whipped the tears from his cheeks, looking at himself from the small distance. He was practically bone and everyone knew it. The kids in glee clubs, the kids who used to beat him up. They glee clubs kids worried about him even more and the other kids just stopped picking on him, afraid he'd break if he simply touched his back against the locker. He shook his head and Dave held him tighter. "You need to see this." His voice whispered and Kurt pulled away, feeling alone even with the other there for him. He didn't understand.

Kurt felt ashamed. He pulled himself up from the floor as his body shook. He moved to his dresser, falling into it as he grabbed for a large item made from fake silver and turned back around. With his weak arms he still managed to throw it towards the mirror, cracking it, watching as his reflection broke within it. "Kurt, come here." Dave's voice spoke to him but he shook his head, moving out of his room and running off down the hallway into the bathroom. His fingers quickly grabbed the lock and turned it and he tried to calm himself down.

Kurt felt disgusting. He moved to the mirror above the sink, pulling at it and it swung against the wall with a crack. His hands searched for things, grabbing pill bottles and looking at the different names. Bupropion, Trazodone, Eszopiclone and other names he couldn't read. He turned on the sink and began to take different medicines, even ones that weren't his for back and menstrual pains.

"Kurt open the door!" The door cracked under the weight of the banging. Kurt found himself quickening his pace, taking ten pills at once as he searched for other medicines and swallowed with the sips of water he took with his hand. "Dave call 911." Kurt tried to ignore the voices as he dropped one of the empty pill bottles on the ground and found himself taking several of another. He slid on the floor the moment he tried to walk, crawling into the bathroom corner where he could die in piece.

The sounds were drowned out as his eyes fluttered, fighting to stay awake as his fingers gripped around one of the bottles. He didn't know what was in it now, the letters jumbled up every time a crushing weight banged against the door to force it opened.

"Burt, let me do it." Dave's voice came, having the older man step back. He breathed, lifting his foot and slamming it against the door. This broke the lock and the door flew open.

The two rushed inside of the bathroom, seeing the boy barely breathing against the bathroom floor.

* * *

><p>Kurt felt broken. He laid in that hospital bed for three days and each one of those days were worst than the last. The room was only there was equipment. There was no metal against the bed frame, no blanket or pillow unless he was sedated or had nurses watching him. He was on some sort of suicide watch—that drove him insane—and was not to be trusted with anything.<p>

"You can't visit him today." His doctor's voice was muffled through the door as he tried to listen.

"Why? I thought you were going to send him home."

"I have been calling and leaving you updates but I didn't want to say anything too drastic over the phone..." The woman sighed. "The first thirty-two hours he was here he tried to kill himself six times. Suffocating, brain concussion, he even tried to trick the nurse into giving him more medication then he needed."

The woman watched Kurt's father, trying to keep his cool and not break down. She didn't know that he thought it was his fault, that he was a terrible father and he had caused all of his only true son's pain. "Wh-what about the last few hours?" He breathed, trying to keep himself from crying.

"We took everything away from him and he still tried. Shoved something in the door to make it stuck and tried to drown himself in the bathtub. Since then we took away all of his privileges, guarded him. We aren't sure what is wrong with his mind psychologically but we've done testing—"

"Testing isn't going to do anything. Last time we were here..." He found himself wiping at his eyes. "Last time we were here they told us it was just depression and the medicines and the therapy would help and look in my eyes right now and tell me it helped him."

The doctor sighed. "Because there's a possibility it just wasn't depression. Look, when he came in we found Barbiturates...do you know where he could have gotten them?"

Burt shook his head, moving his hand against his forehead. "No...I don't even know what they are."

"They're used in many cases for assisted suicide. You said he had taken a lot of different medications in the bathroom. The traces weren't much which is great. It's easy to overdose with them compared to other medicines. Something as simple as a few milligrams can do it." She looked back over the chart. "If you come back in the morning I can let you see him though. We're going to sedate him because it's the only way he can sleep through the night because he does have insomnia and was awake for the first two days he was here."

"Wait can his insomnia cause _it_..." He was referring to the suicide tendencies and hoped the doctor would pick up on what he meant.

"Well, studies show insomnia and paranoia have a link. If he was awake long enough and because of his other psychological disorders it's possible. We would have to send him into a sleep study and keep him awake and then do a few other studies to stress his body to see what his responses are..."

"Okay then..." He nodded. "Thank you...I'll either sleep in the waiting area or I'll come back around six." He nodded and the woman smiled.

"It's going to be okay, Mr. Hummel. It's not your fault."


End file.
